A Cat in the Dark Redux
by kyranmat
Summary: "A Cat in the Dark Redux" is a rewriting of my old story "A Cat in the Dark," only better. It follows Dar'Saro, a Khajiit assassin in the Dark Brotherhood.
1. Prologue

Dar'Saro licked his lips. The blood of Ysolda, his latest contract mark, tasted sweet. Flicking his tail, he smiled. _"The best thing about Dar'Saro being in the Dark Brotherhood," _the vampire Khajiit thought to himself. "_Is that this one can feed on his targets."_

Though he was a vampire, he had an unorthodox way of carrying out his assassinations. Instead of simply biting his mark's neck and feeding, he would cast a spell on them to keep them asleep. Following this, he would jab two of his claws into the front of their neck and feed that way.

The tall, slender, black furred feline, clad in blood-red and black armor digs through a few of the nightstand drawers before finding a dagger cast from iron. Using it, he slices along the incisions he made with his claws, cutting her neck open. After that, he places the dagger in Ysolda's hand, closing her fingers around it. The sadistic cat had always enjoyed making his kills look like suicide. He was a perfect fit for the murder guild known as the Dark Brotherhood. He admires his work for a moment, then sweeps the small house of anything that's worth even a few Septims, then exits through the door into the streets of Whiterun.

An unexpected voice catches him off guard. "You there," says a man wearing a closed-face helmet, chainmail, and tan colored cloth. Dar'Saro was not anticipating getting caught by a guard. "What were you doing in Ysolda's house?"

"Well," Dar'Saro says, thinking of an excuse. "Ysolda is good friends with this one. He was just conducting… business with her."

The guard gives him a look of suspicion, hidden behind his helmet. "At three o'clock at night? Move aside, cat, I'm going in."

Dar'Saro acts without thinking, casting an invisibility spell whilst drawing his ebony dagger. The guard looks around, confused as to what had happened.

"I need backup!" the guard shouts, behind him. He turns back to the house, and Dar'Saro reappears behind him, digging his dagger into the man's back. The guard screams, and Dar'Saro can hear multiple sets of footsteps rushing towards him.

"No time to hide the body," he thinks, his heart racing. He had never been so close to being exposed before. He recasts his invisibility spell, and walks straight past the group of guards rushing to where he was. Unveiling himself once more, he simply strolls out of the main gates. He makes his way to the carriage in front of the massive walled city and approaches the driver.

"This one would like to go Dawnstar," he says. It was time to return to the Sanctuary, which wasn't too far from the small Hold capital. It was moved there a few years ago after the Dragonborn, who turned out to be the Listener, had joined, and the Penitus Oculatus had raided the original Sanctuary in Falkreath Hold. Dar'Saro joined soon after the new sanctuary was established. With the Night Mother returned and a Listener named, the Dark Brotherhood was no longer a dying breed in Skyrim. It was as strong as ever.

"That'll be fifty Septims, cat-man," the driver says. Dar'Saro handed over a small pouch of coins and climbed in the carriage. He couldn't wait to collect the reward money for killing his target.


	2. Chapter One

Dar'Saro smiled as he poured septim after septim out of the large pouch Nazir had handed him just moments before. With the Brotherhood stronger than it had been in years, high paying jobs came very frequently. He started counting out his coin when his keen ears picked up someone walking into his chamber. He takes a short whiff of the air before saying, "Yes, Babette?"

The vampire child stood in the Khajiit's chamber door, a look of distaste on her face. "Have you been stealing my blood vials?"

"What reason would Khajiit have to take your blood vials, hmm?" He replies. "This one feeds often enough during his missions. Now go away, Dar'Saro is counting out his coin."

"Stop lying, you stupid cat," she shouts back. Dar'Saro turns around and sees the rage and thirst in Babette's eyes. It was obvious she hadn't fed in a while. "I found your fur caught in my chest. Hand it over!"

"Dar'Saro has told you," he calmly replies, rising out of his chair. "He did not take your vials. If it will appease you, you can have one of Khajiit's." The tall feline takes a few steps towards his chest and opens it, pulling out one of the larger vials of blood, offering it to Babette. He had never seen her this starved of blood before, and would not want her to turn feral and attack another member of the Brotherhood. Babette snatched the vial from his hand and chugged it down. Dar'Saro watched as the rage slowly left her eyes and as the color returned to her skin with each gulp.

"Thank you," she said. "But if I find out that it was you, I'll rip your throat out." Babette gave him an innocent smile before skipping out of his room. Dar'Saro sighed, then returned to counting out his coin.

"Six-hundred septims," he whispered to himself, a smirk on his face. "This brings Khajiit to ten-thousand." After shoveling all of his coin back into its pouch, he scooted a small chest out from under his bed and dropped the pouch in it. He began to get slightly peckish, so he retrieved a smaller bottle of blood from his blood chest and drank it as he left the room.

"You there, cat," a thick Nord voice says to him. "Dar'Saro, was it? I've got a special job for you." Dar'Saro once again sniffs the air, only to smell a scent he seldom smells.

"Listener, it is nice to see you."


	3. Chapter Two

The Nord is tall, but still shorter than Dar'Saro. He was not wearing his traditional Dark Brotherhood armor, but instead a strange black armor with intricate patterns. He removed his masked cowl and spoke. "The Night Mother has given me a new target, but refuses to let me take it alone. From what I hear, you're one of the best assassins in here. I want you to come with me."

The Night Mother is the matron of the Dark Brotherhood. Now naught a rotting corpse that speaks into the mind of the Listener, she was a woman who could not bear children. Sithis, Lord of the Void, revered by the Dark Brotherhood, gave her five children. She murdered her children in Sithis' name, and thus became the Night Mother, bride of the Dread Lord. When someone would perform the Black Sacrament, the Night Mother would speak to the Listener, who would then talk to the Speakers.

Dar'Saro thought over it for a moment. He preferred to work alone, but when would he get a chance to go on a mission with the Dragonborn, slayer of Alduin? "Khajiit will go," he said, a smirk on his lips. "Let this one gather his things and we can go."

The cat returns to his chamber and retrieves his masked cowl, ebony daggers, and ebony longbow. He had amassed these valuable weapon during his work with the Thieves' Guild before he had joined the Brotherhood. Returning to the Listener, he nodded. Nobody knew his real name. He was just referred to as Listener and Dragonborn.

"So, who is this target that the Night Mother will not let you go alone to take out?"

"When I said target," the Dragonborn replied in his thick Nord accent. "I meant _targets._"

"Oh? Well, who are these targets, hmm?" Dar'Saro's eyes widened with anticipation.

"We're to kill Ulfric Stormcloak and his court."


	4. Chapter Three

Dar'Saro stopped in his tracks, shocked. Stuttering, he says, "_The_ Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Yes, Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the Stormcloak rebellion." The Nord sighs, then continues. "I would have rather not gotten involved with this pointless war, but I cannot ignore a contract from the Night Mother." The pair resume walking before Dar'Saro speaks up again after a few moments of silence.

"The Imperials will win the war, and Skyrim will fall under control of the Aldmeri Dominion if you carry out with this contract, no?"

"Aye, that's what I fear," the Dragonborn replies, a grave tone to his thick accent. "But I have no doubt that someone will eventually make a contract against the high ranks of the Aldmeri Dominion. My only concern is if there's an assassin, or group of assassins, skilled enough to pull off an something like that. Hell, I don't even know if the two of us are capable of pulling this off."

Dar'Saro adopted a look of concern on his face. This mission could potentially be a suicide mission for him. He understood that the moment he found out Ulfric was the target. But the Listener having doubts? This increased the cat's worries.

"Surely the Night Mother knows how dangerous this mission is, no?" Dar'Saro pauses for a moment. "Why would she risk her Listener's life, hmm?"

"The Night Mother puts more faith in me than she should," he replies. "I've almost gotten myself killed on plenty of her 'special' missions, and she knows it. Sometimes I wonder if she's _trying _to get me killed. Perhaps she wants me to join her and the Dread Father in the Void."

The conversation soon grows silent. After a few hours, the encroach upon the gates of Windhelm. Dread washes over the odd pair as they pause the entrance to the city. They could both die, and they both know it.


End file.
